


A New Normal Routine

by Dokuhan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Infidelity, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dokuhan/pseuds/Dokuhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the #SASO2016 prompt: </p>
<p>Package: Regular-sized mailing envelope<br/>To: Nishinoya<br/>From: Asahi<br/>Note: Your key is enclosed, like you'd asked. I'm sorry it turned out this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Normal Routine

For the first few days, you think things aren’t so bad. You just have to figure out a new routine.  
  
You still get up at the ass crack of dawn, just like always. You find yourself able to just roll out of bed first thing, instead of waking up locked in a vice grip with murmurs of “just five more minutes, Yuu” ringing in your ears. Maybe you’re happy that you can just get your day started without distractions, but you’re not exactly sure yet.  
  
When you come back from your morning run, the apartment is empty. Breakfast becomes a cup of coffee and an energy bar, instead of a coordinated and balanced meal. You were never really good at cooking for yourself, so you set a reminder on your phone to look up recipes because you’re going to have to learn now.   
  
Practice goes on uninterrupted for the first time in a long time. If you have to guess the last time you went through practice without seeing him or getting a message in the middle, it has to be middle school, but you figure that doesn’t count since you didn’t know each other back then. Daily exercises and running back on and forth on the court keep you distracted enough not to notice all morning. It only really catches your mind when you reflexively check your phone during lunch and you realize there’s no emails or missed calls to be checked.   
  
An email does come during the second half of practice, but when you run to check you see that it’s just from Ryuu. He asks you how you’re “holding up” and if you want to do something that weekend. You tell him you’re not available because of a practice game, but you leave the first half of the question unanswered.   
  
Coming home at dusk means once again coming back to an empty apartment. Even you can admit you’re not feeling emotionally ready for that right now, so you try to keep yourself busy for a couple of hours. Errands do just so much - you go grocery shopping (alone, for the first time), you stop by the bookstore for a cookbook (and notice a bookmark that Asahi would have liked), and you stop by the konbini for a ready-made bento (you’ll start cooking tomorrow). It doesn’t eat up a lot of time, and you’re stuck going home earlier than you want to.   
  
The apartment is quiet and dark, and you curse yourself for not leaving a single light on when you left that morning. You balance your groceries, mail, and practice bag in your arms as you kick your shoes off, calling out “I’m home” even though there’s no one there to say “welcome back”.   
  
You drop everything on the kitchen table, and for the first time all day you feel exhausted. The idea of actually putting away groceries weighs heavy on your mind and you _really_ don’t want to deal with it anymore. You put the perishables in the fridge, it’s enough for right then and there.   
  
The shower and bath kill a little more time, but don’t do much to keep your mind from racing. Somehow at night it’s always worse, like you can’t escape the constant reminders of what used to be and what will never be again. At night it hurts the most because it gives you time to remember.   
  
You can recall the first day you met him, how you thought he was _so cool_ and the ideal ace. You can recall the day you fell in love with him, when you argued in the hallway and school and you realized, _”holy shit, I don’t want to lose him.”_ You can also recall the day he confessed to you, on the court in Tokyo after your team’s bitter loss at Spring High.   
  
But you can’t remember when exactly things went south. You can’t remember when every conversation ended in a screaming match. You can’t remember when he started fall out of love with you and how you were too stupid notice that he was seeing someone else.   
  
If your face feels wet, it’s because of the moisture and steam in the air.   
  
Once you’re out of the bath you decide to go through the mail. The groceries can wait, but the mail is something you can definitely do. It was already your job to handle any correspondence and bills before everything happened (how and why is still a mystery, that’s just how it was), so it feels like you’re slipping into an old routine. You sit on the floor of the living room and organize what you can. Junk mail gets tossed and bills get separated into appropriate piles. You write checks out for the stuff that needs to get paid right away. It’s mechanical, it’s easy.   
  
At least until you get to the last letter.  
  
When you see Asahi’s name and an an unfamiliar address on the envelope it feels like you’ve swallowed a rock. The envelope is worn and feels heavy. You know what’s inside and you dread it.   
  
You open it anyway.   
  
“Nishinoya,” it starts, and you wonder when he decided he was going back to using your surname, “your key is enclosed, like you’d asked. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”   
  
You want to laugh at that, but it feels like if you open your mouth you’re going to do something different. You’re not sure if it’s scream, cry, throw up, or a mixture of the three.   
  
You tip the envelope and his...your extra key falls out. It thumps when it hits the floor. It reminds you of a nail. And just like that, it’s officially over.   
  
For a minute you wonder if that’s why it hasn’t actually hit you yet, because there was always a chance Asahi would use the key and come walking through the door. Maybe the two of you would have worked things out, or maybe it would have just ended in another argument. You’re not exactly sure and now you have no way of knowing.   
  
He might have said he was sorry, but you know it’s just the situation. He’s sorry he got caught, he’s sorry you kicked him out, you don’t know if he’s sorry for hurting you or wrecking what you two had. There’s a chance he’s not sorry for those things at all, but there’s also a chance you’re just bitter and hurt.   
  
So you do what feels best for the moment. You crumple the envelope and throw it somewhere to deal with it later. You lay back on the floor and avoid accidentally kicking the key under the couch.   
  
You’ve done enough for the day. You’ll keep figuring out your new normal tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> AsaNoya AND angst?! Holy shiiiiit, my B R A N D.


End file.
